


Self-Control, or Lack Thereof

by sheeplessnight



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, M/M, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, what do you want from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7323988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheeplessnight/pseuds/sheeplessnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stood there, being conflicted for the first time in while with the thought of feeding. Cassidy usually took bites out of the blokes that injured him in an impulsive rage but his mind was stuck on the possibly of using <i>Jesse's</i> blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Control, or Lack Thereof

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this over the course of a week on my hour transit on the MTA. i dont even know what a ten gallon hat is.

Cassidy took another shot and put a cigarette in his mouth while his other hand came around to slap Jesse on the back. He hopped off his barstool. 

It had only taken him four shots of well whisky and three watered down beers to get the preacher talking to some broad at the bar. They'd been at it for five minutes before Cassidy started losing any kind of buzz he was feeling. He figured it was good for Jesse, who seemed wound up with all that feeling-every-emotion-and-God's-creatures-in-my-gut shite. Not to mention his frustration from that _Turnip_ chick running around teasing him. 

Cassidy would have slipped him a Xanax if he had any to spare (which he didn't, much to his own disappointment).

"You goin' out for a smoke?" Jesse asked in response to Cassidy getting up and using the other man as a support. Cassidy knew the fag hanging loosely from the side of his mouth was reminding Jesse of his own nicotine addiction. 

Cassidy waved his hands dismissively, as if he didn't want to impose, "Aye, but don't let that stop ye two from getting along," and took the cigarette out of his mouth. He came around to put both his arms around the two of them, pulling them in and then leaning closer to the girl, "And don't ye worry about sinnin', love, God forgives all," he gave a shit-eating grin and winked at Jesse before pulling away. "Ye got a light, Padre?" 

Jesse handed him a matchbook. Cassidy bowed and left, his gaze lingering on the young girl before he turned to walk away. On his walk from the bar to the exit, he kept his eyes peeled for _someone_ with drugs on them. Someone acting jittery. Too excited. Someone not-just-drunk. He would settle for weed. 

He sighed as he walked into the cold night air without any luck. He struck a match and brought it to the cigarette. Mumbled through his cigarette to himself: "Ye could just find some drugged up bum in tha' alleyway o'er there and take 'is stash while they're too fucked up to stop yer," He took a drag after a frustrated sigh, "Maybe get lucky an' they'll stab ya with a needle, ya?" He exhaled smoke into the sky. 

Nights out with Jesse were fun but the preacher was way too fucking sober for Cassidy's enjoyment. It was probably for the best. Cassidy was "blessed" to be completely immune to overdosing. That was really the best part of the whole vampirism thing. Sure, ripping out the throats of arseholes and jumping out of planes was _loads_ of fun but doing enough smack to kill an elephant was more fun than ripping out a thousand arseholes' throats. 

Jesse was not so blessed. Not in the immortal way, at least. 

Cassidy took a drag of his cigarette and felt it burn his lips. "Shite," he cursed, throwing the fag on the ground as if it had bit him (which it had). He'd already smoked it to the filter. Cassidy licked his lips and grumbled, moving to go back into the bar. 

A woman strutted past him and Cassidy watched her tight dress ride ever-so-slightly up her legs as she walked out. He looked back into the throng of the bar to where he'd left his mate dressed in black. 

A crowd of men blocked Cassidy's view of the bar. He watched a man pulling away a woman from the bar, scolding her. It took him a moment but he finally realised it was that damn bird he'd worked so hard on setting Jesse up with. 

He could hear Jesse's calm, southern, and disrespectful slurring, picking it up as if it was spoken for him. It prompted hostile yells from the bar. Glass breaking. A man was thrown across the bar.

Oh. That was Jesse. 

He watched the drunk preacher tumble over the edge of the bar in a drunken cartwheel and Cassidy grabbed the closest unattended drink he could find. He took a swig as he watched Jesse get up. 

Jesse held the side of the bar as he got up in a slow raise. Cassidy drank as he watched. The vampire had seen this before: Jesse taking down an entire bar. He was ready to see it again. 

Jesse was on his feet now, the macho man who'd thrown him across the bar was preparing to do it again. He didn't stand much taller than Jesse but he was still twice his size. Cassidy took a swig of the beer. 

" _ **Hit him.**_ " 

As Cassidy lowered the bottle he heard that deep, compelling voice. An excited and impressed smile spread across the vampire's face as a punch was thrown to the larger man, from one of his own. The bar was thrown into turmoil as Macho Man knocked out the man who'd hit him and the two of them went at it. Other men moved in for Jesse while the regular patrons fled.

Cassidy's fondness for the preacher deepened. 

With eyes absently watching the preacher in his slimming black attire, Cassidy finished his beer while the "pious" man threw others over chairs and tables. God, he wanted Jesse. It was not as prominent as the part of him that wanted to do a line of coke, but he was fresh out of coke. 

The preacher got decked in the face, spitting blood on contact and Cassidy made an audible hiss from second-hand pain. Jesse went down and Cassidy realised it was nigh time to step in. 

Cassidy picked up a nearby chair, holding it over his head and stepping over wreckage, seemingly invisible to the brawlers. He walked over and smashed it against the Tough Guy's back. He went down fast and easy. Jesse was already scrambling to stand up, the back of his hand pressed against a bloody mouth. Cassidy admired his perseverance. 

"Thanks Cass, but you couldn't have stepped in a little earlier?" Jesse asked in stark annoyance as Cassidy helped him to his feet. 

"Ya, no, sorry, I was off havin' a nice, lil wank in the bathroom while you got this all started," he half-joked, since the way he had been watching Jesse fighting was akin to having a wank. 

Jesse spit blood on the floor. The gesture was becoming of him and Cassidy suppressed thoughts of kissing Jesse's bloodied mouth even if his dick thought it was a good idea. 

And then he felt a knife in his back. 

Cassidy eyes went wide and his spine stiff. 

And then, _fuck it_. The shot of adrenaline from being stabbed was enough of a high for Cassidy to leap forward and grab Jesse's face. His lip was bleeding pretty bad for a lip wound but Cassidy still had to bite and suck it for as much blood as he could. The blood was warm and sweet and the idea that it was Jesse's got his own blood flowing in his groin. 

Jesse made a grunt of pain and annoyance, and pushed Cassidy off. The vampire didn't need to be asked twice. As soon as he left Jesse's lips, he turned around and decked the stabber so hard in the skull he felt his knuckles fracture. The man went down. 

He stood there, waving the pain out of his hand and being conflicted for the first time in while with the thought of feeding. He knew he had to, or else he'd have to kill an dumb armadillo or something to heal. Cassidy usually took bites out of the blokes that injured him in an impulsive rage but his mind was stuck on the possibility of using _Jesse's_ blood. 

He hesitation ended when Jesse put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's get outta here before the sheriff shows up." 

They fled to Jesse's truck and started down the path to the church. Cassidy bled on the seat, sitting slouched. "You don't look so good," Jesse remarked. 

"Ooh, a genuine Sherlock Holmes 'ere, aren't ye?" Cassidy recanted, touchy due to the pain of his stab wound. "I just nee'ta get some blood in me. Stop if ye see a cow pasture or somethin' otherwise livin'." He drowsily waved his hand. "Unless ye lookin' to help out an' me give yer own," he turned his head as Jesse to his eyes off the road and and looked at Cassidy, flabbergasted. "What?" Cassidy scoffed after a moment, "What's wrong with ya?" 

"Cassidy, you can't be serious," Jesse sighed and scoffed, sounding like a disappointed dad rather than a terrified victim. 

"No, no, I am serious, Padre." Cassidy sat up despite his pain, "Save us a whole lotta trouble findin' and huntin' down a damn cow, which, by the way, _Padre_ , is some bloke's fuckin' property. That's stealin', which--" he held up his hand defensively "I'm no expert or anythin' but am pretty damn sure--" he waved his finger vehemently and reclined away from Jesse, looking more like backing away from a threat than laying back to relax "--is a sin."

Jesse rolled his eyes. Cassidy couldn't see it but he felt it. 

"And what if you can't stop?"

Cassidy scoffed, held up his hands defensively and screwed up his face, "What now, ya think I don't 'ave any self-control--" there was a definite pause as he realised what he'd said and followed up quickly "--okay, no, no, ye do 'ave a lil-- _wee_ bit of a point 'ere, Padre. You got yer Jedi shite. Just tell me when ye want me to fuckin' stop." The vampire looked at Jesse expectantly. 

He could feel himself excited at the mere thought of the idea. After nearly 120 years, there were very, very few things left in the world that were terrifyingly foreign to the vampire. He'd done everything that made mortal men grow weary with the fear of death. But the one thing he was afraid of--the one scary unknown--was that _control_. 

The feeling of fear excited him. 

"I wouldn't be turnin' ye into to a vampire if that's what ye scared of," Cassidy insisted, nudging his eyebrows at the preacher as if he'd nudge an elbow. 

Jesse glanced at Cassidy, at the road, back to Cassidy. Back to the road, "Is it gonna hurt?"

"Oh, no, at least, not as bad as bein' stabbed in the fuckin' back, Jess," Cassidy spat, losing his nerve both with Jesse and from the pain. 

Jesse sighed and pulled the truck over. Cassidy stared at him. "Well? How do we do this?" 

The vampire looked like a poor kid who stole some rich kid's Christmas, "Oh, I don't fuckin' care, we can do it fuckin’ naked if ya’d like."

"Christ, Cassidy," Jesse rolled his eyes, moving forward as if he was going to put his truck in gear. 

Cassidy reached out a hand and urged him back down, "Okay, okay, wait, that was a bad joke. Serious now, see, look at me, I'm lookin' serious, ya?" Jesse looked at Cassidy's long, wide-eyed and somber expression. He wasn't going to lose this opportunity because he made a little bit of a too-daring flirtation. Besides, he was starting to feel his kidneys failing. 

The preacher leaned back in his seat, relaxed, "Yeah, sure Cass."

"Now I ain't got any fangs or nothin', so unless ye want some human-lookin' bite marks, which I wouldn't judge ye for," he shrugged as he insisted, "We should probably just make a lil cut."

"Where?"

Cassidy shrugged, "Wherever ya want my mouth, Padre."

Jesse shifted to pull a pocket knife out of his pocket, handed it to Cassidy and then started to roll up his sleeve. He held his hand palm-up to Cassidy and the Irishman was a mildly disappointed about the preacher’s choice of location. 

Looking away, Jesse made a sound that got Cassidy feeling warm when he cut a gash into the other's palm. His entire body begged for consumption yet the vampire tried to keep as calm as possible as he pulled the preacher's bleeding palm to his mouth. He started by just licking up what blood had started to pool and then, with a small, unintentional groan, sucked the wound. 

As he started to feel uncomfortable, Jesse shifted and made a sound of discomfort. Cassidy found it so unbearably hot that he couldn't help himself from pushing his top teeth into the palm to encourage a faster blood flow. The blood was doing its work and his wounds began healing as swiftly as air blown into a balloon. 

He could feel Jesse’s life going into him. He could feel his own heart pound with excitement as Jesse’s fluttered to keep up with the bloodloss. 

When the preacher began to shift even more, he held Jesse's wrists with both hands in a death grip, feverishly licking, biting, and sucking at the wound until he heard Jesse call, "Cass." He made a sound, more of a moan than an acknowledgement. "Cassidy stop," Jesse's voice held a whine of pain and Cassidy could feel Jesse struggle to pull his arm away. The vampire bit his teeth directly into the wound, which warranted a shout of pain. 

"Cassidy! _**Stop.**_ "

His throat closed, his tongue and jaw went slack and he lost all control over his cheeks and lips. Whether he wanted to or not, he stopped. The realisation of Jesse’s power coupled with the want to continue left Cassidy panting over the other man’s palm. 

Cassidy’s fingers loosened around Jesse’s arm and he leaned away, wiping his mouth with his palm. “Thank ye, Jesse,” Cassidy said, very somber-like. He slouched back down in the passenger seat, dizzy and high from the experience. The truck was turned back onto the road towards home.

Once back at the church, Cassidy left to find himself a place in the attic to have a wank while the taste of Jesse’s blood was still on his tongue.


End file.
